


Quest 03: Let Sleeping Gods Lie

by FictionCookie



Series: Of Gods and Men [3]
Category: Runescape (Video Games)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-04-24 06:14:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19167463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FictionCookie/pseuds/FictionCookie
Summary: Jahaan stumbles upon a newly excavated chamber, one that a charismatic young stranger claims to be where Guthix resides under the earth. However, once this knowledge becomes commonplace, many different factions come to a head, either to protect the sleeping god, wake him, or destroy him...





	1. Temple Desecrated

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of my full series 'Of Gods and Men', and on my page can be read in full (or as far as I've posted). I'm also posting it in smaller chunks as each 'quest' can sort of be standalone, but read as part of a wider story as well.

Like Ozan, Jahaan took a ship to Catherby in order to avoid traversing the dangerous mountains that separated the two kingdoms - Asgarnia, housing Falador, and Kandarin, where Catherby and the Legends’ Guild were located. Catherby was the largest fishing village in Gielinor, home to some of the greatest fishermen in the land. The crisp, clear blue waters of the beach were home to vast amounts of different fish, all plentiful, all delicious to eat or, for those so inclined, profitable to sell. Glorious gold-plated ships were docked in the ports, side by side to the numerous fishing trawlers that strayed further from the shores to catch their supplies of fish. On his way to Burthorpe, Jahaan had spent close to a month on its soft, golden beach, loving the feeling of the slightly damp sand from the retreating tide between his toes. As it was summer when he visited last, the warm evenings allowed him to sleep under a blanket of stars and spend his days among the company of other fisherman, enjoying the past-time together. He made a fair bit of money that summer, selling what he didn’t eat to the local fishmongers. A part of him was tempted to stay there longer, almost indefinitely, to save up enough to rent out a small room in an inn, or maybe even buy a residence of his own. For a while he felt he could quite happily live out his life with lazy days of fishing, but he soon realised he was only kidding himself, and the serenity began to grate on him. With little more than his memories to keep him company, Jahaan became increasingly restless, the remnants of guilt from his first encounter with Lucien eating away at the edges of his sanity. Therefore, decisions were made, and he left Catherby for the Imperial Guard. Being back, however, brought with it some blissful memories, especially when that salty sea air slipped through his nose and hit his lungs. With a sad smile, he traced his fingers lightly over the armour at his wrist. His eyes gazed into the far off horizon, a watercolour of blue and pink, blending the sky together in a picturesque portrait only his eyes could capture.

Taking a seat on the sands, Jahaan removed his chestplate and started to work out the kinks in his back.

_ I think I’ll catch some fish, build a fire, and settle down here for the night… _

 

It ended up being just under a week when Jahaan finally continued his journey, leaving Catherby behind him as he set out for the Legends’ Guild. The Guild wasn’t too far from Catherby, but it was still a two-day journey. Following the coastline took Jahaan a little longer than going direct would, but it allowed him easy access to fresh food and clean water. A night’s camp by the shore was never a bad thing in his eyes, and the day after, with a brisk pace, he made it to the Legends’ Guild by the afternoon.

The grasslands around it were dotted with pleasant little flowers, and trees of many different varieties lined the way. From oaks, to yews, and even an elder - firewood is never an issue on this path. Or, for the most ambitious, elder logs fetched a high price in the right market.

He saw about a dozen woodcutters making the most of the opportunity.

One thing that did puzzle Jahaan though - there was a large crater dug not too far from the entrance of the Legends’ Guild.

_ Weird… that wasn’t here last time I came through this way. Are they digging a new quarry or something? _

Shrugging, Jahaan let it slide as he squared up his shoulders and strode up to the entrance to the Legends’ Guild.

As soon as he got close, the burly guard at the gate locked suspicious eyes on him; he tugged on the leash that pulled his dog into view, who maddly started barking at Jahaan and launching himself at the gate, as if he was starved and Jahaan was the only meat he’d seen in a week.

Cautiously, Jahaan slowed his approach. “Um, h-hello…”

“What’s your business here, stranger?” the guard demanded.

Wondering what he did to offend the gentlemen, Jahaan hurried to pull the letter from his backpack and held at out at arms length to the guard, slowly edging closer to the gate with his eyes fixated on the angry canine.. “Um, I have a letter from Sir Tiffy?”

It wasn’t a question, but that was the most pacifistic way he could voice the phrase. He’d already been almost eaten alive by one dog in recent memory - he didn’t want to make it two.

Snatching the letter from his hand, the guard examined the seal closely. Gruffly, he told Jahaan to wait there while he left go inside the Guild. The dog remained, teeth baring, eyes deadly.

Managing a weak smile, Jahaan whispered, “W-Who’s a good boy…?”

It did not have the desired effect.

Five terrifying minutes later, the guard returned to his post. Grabbing onto the dogs leash, he pulled him out of the way as he heaved the metal gates open, saying nothing as he let Jahaan pass.

Sending a smug look at the canine over his shoulder, he marched past the beautifully trimmed hedges and into the Guild.

 

As soon as he entered, an older gentleman with a long white beard and a full set of rune armour met him inside the doorway.

“Welcome,” the man warmly greeted. “My name is Radimus Erkle. I’m the grand vizier to this fine establishment. I apologise on behalf of Steven - he’s new here. I keep telling him to loosen up, but will he listen?”

Radimus laughed, and Jahaan followed by chuckling nervously.

Luckily, Radimus continued the conversation before the silence became awkward. “I read your note from Sir Tiffy. It’s a pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Jahaan Alsiyad-Abut. Am I saying that right?”

Confirming he was, Jahaan held out his hand to shake. “An honour to meet you too, Sir Erkle.”

“Oh, I’m no knight - just an old man who loves an adventure. Now, Sir Tiffy sent you here for a reason. Come this way…”

Through a large oak door and two grand hallways, the pair came to a marble staircase, surrounded on all sides by portraits of adventurers of old, famous ones that Jahaan had only ever heard about in campfire tales.

Motioning downwards, Erkle handed Jahaan back the note and said, “Give this to Fionella and she’ll take care of you. It’s only one floor down. Whatever you do, DON’T go down to the second floor.”

“O-Okay,” Jahaan, still quite frankly baffled by it all, carefully made his way down the stairs. The darkness started to increase the further he descended, but fortunately candlesticks were dotted around to guide the way. He made it to the right floor, a quiet hallway with a handful of quaint little doors on either side, and one at the end that was helpfully labelled ‘Fionella’s’.

Jahaan started to edge out of the stairwell, but then hesitated. Looking over his shoulder, then quickly all around him, he slinked back into the stairwell and, as quietly as he could, tiptoed down to the basement floor. A gloved hand made for the door handle...

A roar, so furious and ungodly it chilled Jahaan to the core. The sounds of sword meeting flesh, clashing with armour. A fall, a dive - who knows!

A hand tentatively hovered over the handle of his sword as he toyed with the idea of investigating further, against all sense and reason. That idea was stopped dead in his tracks by a hand on his shoulder, causing Jahaan to swing around in shock.

An unimpressed Radimus motioned to the staircase. “This floor is off limits. It’s only for the most worthy of legends.”

Guiltily, Jahaan hung his head and trudged back up the staircase, feeling like a child with their hand caught in the cookie jar.

Radimus pointed to the far end of the hallway, watching with a hawk-like glare to make sure Jahaan didn’t deviate from his course again.

After knocking on the door twice, a call came from the other side. “Come on in.”

The dismal looking room was nothing too spectacular. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t this… no, this looked like your average storage room. A few chairs were lazily placed at the back of the room, while a dusty wooden desk separated Fionella from her guests. Behind the brunette were a large amount of tattered crates and cardboard boxes, victims to time and age. Blowing a strand of hair from her eyes, she asked, “Can I help you?”

Uncrumpling the note, Jahaan handed it to her. “Uh, yeah… I was told by Sir Tiffy to come to you with this.”

Adjusting her glasses, Fionella squinted at the handwriting. Occasionally, she glanced up at Jahaan before returning to the note. Sometimes she looked confused, sometimes impressed, and once she even laughed. Utterly confused, Jahaan resisted the urge to ask her to elaborate any further.

Shrugging, she screwed the note up and tossed it behind her. Jahaan held out a hand, opening his mouth to protest, but Fionella cut him off, saying, “Wait here.”

Leaving his mouth hung agape, he did as he was told. At this point, he was just resigned to whatever came next.

A couple of minutes and a large clattering later, Fionella emerged from behind a load of crates and boxes with a two long, thin crates of her own. Heaving it up on the table, she wiped the sweat from her brow and muttered, “I really need to build up my strength…”

She peered around the obstruction and drearily announced to Jahaan, “These are yours, courtesy of Sir Tiffy and the Legends’ Guild. Enjoy.”

Jahaan looked at the box, then regarded Fionella, hesitantly.

“What are you waiting for, Saradomin’s return?” she chided, ushering him to take the boxes from her. Sliding them into his arms, he thanked the young woman and staggered out into the hallway to unbox these ‘gifts’.

When he pried them open, he couldn’t quite believe his eyes.

The first crate held two rune swords, unscathed and unparalleled in their craftsmanship, with a double-sheathed belt. They put his second-hand scimitar to shame. Carefully, he put the belt on and tucked them into their sheaths, feeling like the most powerful man in Gielinor. Weaponry really shouldn’t give anyone such a rush, but man, Jahaan felt like he was ten feet tall. In truth, he was never a fan of scimitars - they were an odd shape, and Jahaan awkwardly found himself slicing too far from his target as he misjudged the curvature of the blade. He noted that Sir Tiffy hadn’t provided him a shield, and wondered if that was intentional or not. After all, during the battle, his shield spent half the time on the ground. Kiteshields were so damn cumbersome when fighting human-like enemies. Trolls were one thing, and yes, when he managed to utilise it in time, it helped to protect him against the ice giants. However, Jahaan had always favoured speed and agility - why take the brunt of an attack when you have the ability to dodge out of the way entirely?

In the other crate was a yew shieldbow with about two dozen rune-tipped arrows and a leather quiver. Now, he wasn’t a bad archer, but he was no Ozan.  _ At least now I have a reason to practice, _ he thought to himself as he repositioned the bow over his shoulders and adjusted the quiver

 

It was when he made it about twenty feet from the gates, the angry dog and grumpy guard in his wake, that he didn’t know what to do next. On his way out, he’d asked Radimus if Ozan had passed through, to which he replied that he left with Ariane two days ago, the pair making towards East Ardougne. Deciding that was a good a place as any to start, Jahaan thought he’d try and catch them before they moved on again.

“Hey mate, hol’ up!” a voice called out. When Jahaan turned around, he saw a sprightly young man chasing after him. Once he made it close enough, Jahaan noted the man sported a black feathered hat and an unshaven face. His clothing was just as unkempt as his facial hair, and from the bags around his eyes, it was easy to deduce that the man didn’t quite understand the concept of a proper night’s sleep.

“Can I help you?” Jahaan inquired, smiling amusedly at the poor man that was now doubled over, trying to catch his breath. The young man signalled for him to be given a minute’s respite.

“Whoa nelly,” he exhaled, deeply. “I really need to get in shape, yes I do. I can dig and dig and dig, but nope, runnin’ takes it right out of me, yes it does.”

Jahaan motioned over to the large pit the man had emerged from. “Don’t tell me you dug that all by yourself.”

“Why, yes sir, yes I did! Lost me some five good shovels. But it’ll be worth it when the museum sees what I bring ‘em, yes it will!”

“You work for the museum in Varrock?”

The man nodded eagerly. “Jus’ an apprentice for now, but oh boy, when they see what I’ve got! Oh boy! They’s always laughing at me, you see, for chasin’ this ‘dream’, they call it. They say I’m not ‘museum material’, but they just don’t get it! I here think I’ve just stumbled on one o’ the biggest historical discoveries of all time, yes I have!”

This peaked Jahaan’s interest. “What do you reckon you’ve found?”

“Something game-changin’!” The man cheered, clapping his hands together. “I reckon this is got something to do with Guthix himself! I’ve been studyin’ the area for so long, and I got me some help from those druids in Taverley, and they can vouch for this here energy that be coming from that hole. I uncovered a door an’ everything! Come look!”

Unable to resist the curiosity, Jahaan tagged along as the man bounded over to the substantial hole he’d dug for himself. True to his word, an ancient stone door had been uncovered, with leaf-like patterns carved into the frame.

He couldn’t help but be impressed. “Very nice. So, what’s inside?”

This is where the man’s enthusiasm skipped a beat, and a large frown overwhelmed his features. “That’s the thing, I haven’t gone through yet. I’ve been trying to open the door for ages, yes I have, but it ain’t no use. Maybe I just haven’t got the muscles, y’know?”

“So, you want me to help you open the door?”

“That, and more, if you’re up for it. Ya see, I ain’t no adventurer like yourself. You gotta take into account all the usual dangers of openin’ up ancient tunnels… traps, boulders, cave spiders, undead monsters… I thought it might be best if I’d get someone from the Legends’ Guild to lend a hand, y’know? And I see YOU walking out, Mr Jahaan Alsiyad-Abut!”

Jahaan crinkled his brow. “You know me?”

“Why, of course!” the man beamed. “Word travels around these parts, yes sir! You're one of Sir Tiffy's men! He only bothers around with the best, you know.”

Jahaan smiled, feeling his ego get a little cuddle. If this man planned on charming him into helping, he was doing a good job. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Oh!” the man held out his hand, then quickly withdrew it to wipe some soil off his palm, before offering it again. “Name’s Orlando. Orlando Smith. So, you in?”

Grinning, Jahaan seized the man’s hand. “Sure!”

“FANTASTIC!” Orlando looked like he was going to explode with glee. He practically leapt down into the hole with Jahaan in tow. When he placed his hand on the crevice acting as the door’s handle, Jahaan noted how warm it felt to the touch, almost hot, and it vibrated ever so slightly upon contact. Much to the surprise of Jahaan, and the awe of Orlando, the former managed to heave the stone door open without throwing his back out in the process. Orlando lit a couple of torches, handing one to Jahaan, before they both stepped inside, Jahaan apprehensively, but it seemed if Orlando had abandoned all previous reservations as he skipped into the cave.

“This is it! By golly, this is it! Oh boy, the museum’s gonna be so chuffed with me! We gotta take something back with us. Ooo but we can’t disturb anything… aww shucks… Still, this is incredible, yes it is!”

Inside, the stone walls were covered in carvings, floor to ceiling. Much of it was a strange language Jahaan did not understand, but Orlando said it looked familiar to him. The rest were drawings, figures etched in time into the stone. Many of the figures had been engulfed by the plant growth, but among the visible carvings, Jahaan recognized the snake, Juna, Guardian of the Tears of Guthix, alongside a giant insect. It seemed Guthix held them in high regard.

In the corner of the room was what appeared to be an inactive soul obelisk, yet when leaning in closer, Jahaan noted a faint hum could still be heard coming from it. Scattered on the floor next to it were broken remnants of vials, perhaps from the early days of herblore. The odd scrap of withered herb could be seen in amongst the shattered glass.

“Hey Jahaan, take a look at this,” Orlando urged, ushering Jahaan towards a cracked plinth. Atop it laid the remains of a blade, still emitting sparks. Pieces were undoubtedly missing, rendering it irreparable, even if it was safe to touch.

With a furrowed brow, Orlando muttered, “How strange. What we know of Guthix indicates he was a pacifist; completely against violence, yes he was. The sword looks like it has been recovered, and for it to be placed in such a prominent position... there are so many things we could learn! Still, my mother warned me against touchin’ glowin’ weapons of the gods, yes she did, so let’s leave that one be for a while…”

The two continued to examine the ruin, Orlando marvelling at every little thing he saw. After a while, he called Jahaan over again, remarking, “This here wall don’t match the other walls, no sir. I think there might be somethin’ beyond here.”

Pulling off some of the plant life that had been residing on the obscure looking wall, Jahaan marvelled at the intricate patterns carved into the stone, far more detailed than anything else inside the temple. Somewhat awe-struck, he couldn’t help but trace his finger across them. Alas, he was broken from his relaxing activity when the door creaking open by itself. The next room opened out in front of them, the walls similar to the last, but this time grass covered the floor, somehow alive despite the darkness. Six statues holding torches were dotted across the room, automatically lighting themselves once they sensed the presence of intruders. Orlando didn’t even get to marvel at his surroundings before a loud groan emanated from the far wall, startling him, and a shrill alarm pierced through the air.

Suddenly, three rock-like beasts prised themselves from the walls, each looking like fractured pieces of stone held together by tree bark. In place of an eye, they had the symbol of Guthix, and each was glowing a different colour. One red, one green, and one blue.

Hesitantly, Jahaan drew one of his swords from his belt. “Orlando, stay behind me.”

“WARNING: Mahjarrat lifeform detected. Mahjarrat will not be allowed passage. Retreat before further action,” the creatures ordered in unison. Their voices were bellowing and husky, fitting for their imposing stature.

“But we’re not Mahjarrat!” Jahaan cried, desperately, retreating back a few steps as the beasts advanced on him.

This proved futile as the creatures repeated, “WARNING: Mahjarrat lifeform detected. Mahjarrat will not be allowed passage. Retreat before further action.”

Jahaan steadied his grip on his sword, glaring at Orlando out of the corner of his eye as the man cowered behind him. “Orlando, is there something you’re not telling me?”

“No! We're humans, we are!” Orlando maintained, a whimper in his cracking voice. “Please, we mean you no harm! They must be malfunctioning or somethin’ I tell ya!”

“ESCALATED WARNING: Mahjarrat lifeform remains. The threat will be eliminated. Retreat before further action.”

“Orlando, get back into the other room,” Jahaan warned, his eyes narrowing on the automatons that continued to creep up on him.

Desperately, Orlando pleaded, “Please, listen to us! We’re peaceful, I tell ya!”

“WARNING INEFFECTIVE. ACTION: Mahjarrat lifeform remains. Prepare for elimination.”

Jahaan’s eyes grew wide as one of the eyes of the beasts started glowing. “ _ They _ aren’t peaceful. Get down!”


	2. Invaders Must Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jahaan stumbles upon a newly excavated chamber, one that a charismatic young stranger claims to be where Guthix resides under the earth. However, once this knowledge becomes commonplace, many different factions come to a head, either to protect the sleeping god, wake him, or destroy him...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is part of my full series 'Of Gods and Men', and on my page can be read in full (or as far as I've posted). I'm also posting it in smaller chunks as each 'quest' can sort of be standalone, but read as part of a wider story as well.

The two men dove out of the way as a blast of magical energy shot at them, breaking the stone behind where their heads just were. Each of the three creatures seemed to sport a different fighting style, making combat much more of a challenge as they all seemed intent on fighting simultaneously. Seeing Jahaan as the primary threat, they focused their energies on him. The young man darted and dashed between the statues and pillars in the room while Orlando cowered in the corner, praying that if he stood still enough they’d leave him be.

 

The melee-based monster began smashing the ground in a fury, creating earthquakes that caused Jahaan to lose his footing and tumble to the floor. He just about managed to scurry away before the creature could finish the job and crush him into the dirt beneath them.

_ Okay, gotta keep distance until that one is dealt with,  _ Jahaan made a mental note to himself, sheathing his sword and quickly removing the quiver of arrows that was sticking up out of his backpack. Removing the longbow from around his shoulders, Jahaan quickly readied an arrow and, briefly poking out from behind his cover, began firing as quickly as he could load the arrows. The ones that hit its stone chest simply bounced off, but the ones that caught the bark that joined its limbs together seemed to cause the creature to falter. It wasn’t until Jahaan  _ eventually  _ (though if he was being honest,  _ accidentally _ ) caught the monster right in its eye did he truly find its weakness.

Jahaan kept his distance as much as possible, thankful that the slow creatures could only lumber towards him. It took almost all of his arrows and a lot of darting around the room to keep cover, but once enough arrows pierced through the creatures glowing eye, the light faded and the beast crumbled to the floor, breaking into hundreds of stone fragments as it fell.

With a satisfied and relieved smile, Jahaan quickly dropped his bow and arrow and unsheathed both his swords this time, charging at the two remaining automatons. Due to their reduced speed, coupled with the fact their attacks were most effective at long range, Jahaan could dash behind them, land a few decent hits, then retreat behind the safety of a pillar to catch his breath, before repeating the attack. The magic-based creature managed to catch him as he was heading back behind cover, sending him scattering to the ground. Thankful for his thick armour, no lasting damage was done and Jahaan could roll back to safety before they could follow up with a more damaging strike. Before long, the range-based automaton crumbled to the floor like its companion, leaving only the magic attacker for Jahaan to destroy.

_ If I catch his eye, he’s history,  _ Jahaan reminded himself, hatching a plan. A dumb plan, as it involved going right into the line of fire, but a plan nonetheless. Dropping his sword to the ground, Jahaan took the small runite dagger from his belt and began weaving his way towards the automaton. After a few close shaves, he found himself in range and, with a mighty leap, swung and pierced the dagger right through the creatures eye. It recoiled, groaning in distress, before falling to its knees and crumbling into small fragments.

Once the final creature was defeated, the alarm ceased. The silence was beautiful.

Jahaan brushed himself off, trying to catch his breath.

“Wow, that was awesome, mate! Yes sir, yes it was!” Orlando exclaimed, bounding up to him. “The way you took ‘em down, oh boy, it was the stuff of mighty warriors, yes it was!”

Too exhausted to fully appreciate the ego boost, Jahaan could only manage a small smile, requesting, “Would you mind collecting my arrows? I might need them again.”

All-too happy to be of assistance, Orlando leapt to his task while Jahaan reclined against one of the statues. After putting away his arrows and gathering up his sword and bow, the two men made towards the door at the far end of the room. A small part of Jahaan regretted ever agreeing to be this archaeologist’s bodyguard - it clearly wasn’t good for his health - but a large part of him couldn’t help but be enthralled in the mystery they were uncovering. It was the only thing stopping him from turning back now and going to fish in the comfort of Catherby.

The grand door opened as soon as they approached. With a hand on his sword, Jahaan stepped through first, scouting the surroundings. After a full minute of utter silence, nothing seemed to be trying to kill them, so they deemed it safe to pass through.

However, as soon as they crossed the centre threshold on their way to the next doorway, a large green snake teleported into the room, its golden eyes in narrow slits, glaring daggers at them. Jahaan recognized the being from the carvings earlier in the tomb, realising the serpent standing before them must be Juna, a Guardian of Guthix.

Juna slithered forwards, poised and ready to attack, ordering, “Leave now. You will go no further.”

Then, a skeletal hooded figure, draped in black, gripping a menacing scythe, teleported beside her. It was none other than Death himself.

Death drifted between them, his hands out in a calming manner. “Hold, Juna. I know this human. He is Jahaan Alsiyad-Abut, friend of Icthlarin of the Underworld, and thus a friend of mine. What are you doing here, Jahaan?”

“We came here looking for Guthix,” Jahaan informed. Then, it hit him. “I take it… wow. If you’re here, that means that this really  _ is  _ Guthix’s resting place.”

“It is,” Death confirmed. “We are here to protect him from those that would do him harm.”

“We ain’t here to hurt him, no sir!” Orlando maintained. Death seemed to furrow a brow at the excitable young man. Feeling like he’d forgotten his manners, Orlando hopped forward, his hand outstretched. “Name’s Orlando by the way. I’m the archeologist that helped discover this here cave, yes I did. Nice to meet ya, Death! Heard a lot about your work.”

Glancing at Orlando’s hand, Death pointedly ignored him and returned his focus back to Jahaan. “How did the doors open for you? No-one should be able to gain entry.”

“It must be Guthix’s doing,” Juna stated, a hiss to her words. “Nothing we have time to dwell on now. We do not have long. You must leave, humans.”

“Wait, not long before what?” Jahaan queried, now slightly worried.

Death explained, “This place has been undisturbed for thousands of years. When you entered, the Sword of Edicts began transmitting once more.”

A lump grew in Jahaan’s throat. “That alarm we set off in the cavern… it’s coming from the Sword?”

“Yes, the sword is transmitting. It has been since you triggered the system in Guthix's chambers. It's communicating with the stone circles across the world. When they were created, the stone circles were all in Guthixian hands; it would have been a very effective defense system.”

Orlando cried, “But they're not all in Guthixian hands now, no sir!”

“Indeed,” Juna acknowledged. “It will not be long until this chamber is invaded by our enemies. Guthix cannot be disturbed.”

“Would it be so bad if Guthix were to wake up?” Jahaan asked, cautiously.

Death replied, gravely, “Guthix has been asleep for so long. Even we - his closest followers - cannot predict how he would react to the world in its current state. The last time he awoke was… dramatic.”

“And if he died?” Orlando piped up, his tone too cheery to be believed. Death, Juna and Jahaan just stopped and stared at him for a moment, as if regarding a child.

“If he were to be killed,” Juna shuddered, faintly but noticeably. “Perish the thought… the edicts Guthix bestowed upon this world would cease to be, allowing the lesser gods to return to Gielinor. If that were to happen, another God Wars would undoubtedly commence, tearing the world apart once more.”

“We can’t let that happen,” Jahaan stated, his hand clutched around the grip of his sword. “It’s sorta my fault Guthix’s chamber was uncovered in the first place, so I’ll help to protect it.”

“Thank you, Jahaan,” Death said, “Icthlarin was right about you. You are a good man.”

Juna added, “And if he is here to protect our lord, then we have a common goal.”

Suddenly, Juna’s neck straightened to the ceiling and her eyes started glowing red. Taken aback, Jahaan and Orlando scurried next to Death, but he assured them everything was alright, explaining that Juna was getting a vision...

 

An imposing manor located east of Trollweiss Mountain, in the depths of the Wilderness, was the dark fort of the mighty Zemouregal, a powerful Mahjarrat servant of Zamorak.

Inside his private chambers, Zemouregal was staring intently into the mirror, practicing different variations of a scowl.

“No, too theatrical… too cliched…” he muttered to himself, shaking his head before trying another. “Well, now I just look like a horse.”

The winged abomination by the name of Sharathteerk barged the chamber, flanked by two dark robed humans; snapping around, Zemouregal's face seemed to be frozen on the horse-scowl, causing the robed humans to cower.

“Who gave you permission to enter?!” Zemouregal scolded, thankful his complexion didn’t allow his blush to be visible.

“M-My lord, I sincerely apologise, but this could not wait!” After bowing deeply, Sharathteerk announced, “My lord! The wizards have most intriguing news.”

Irritated at being bothered so late in the day, and still mildly embarrassed, Zemouregal urged, “Well? Speak quickly, welps. What is it?”

One of the dark wizards stammered in response, “S-s-sire, the circle. The stone circle at Varrock - it was glowing.”

Unable to look Zemouregal in the eye, the other one nervously continued, “And it let out such a sound! A great wailing, as if the stone itself were crying out! What does it mean, sire? Is Zamorak calling to us?”

“A wailing…” Zemouregal pondered. “This is beyond you. Be gone, and tell no one of this.”

After deep bows, the two dark wizards hurried to teleport away.

Sharathteerk was elated, in a maniacal way, at least, as he exclaimed, “You know what this means, sire! The alarm of the ancient chamber! Someone has discovered-”

“Guthix's refuge…” Zemouregal finished. “Never in my years did I think it possible. Sharatheerk, instruct the wizards to trace the signal to its source at once. And use any methods in your repertoire to ensure they work quickly. Guthix's edicts stop our Lord Zamorak returning. Imagine the glory of destroying Guthix, of breaking the edicts and bringing back Zamorak himself! Ha, that’ll show her!”

Sharathteerk furrowed his brows. “Who is ‘her’, my lord?”

“Um, n-nothing!” Zemouregal clenched his fists, trying to regain some semblance of his imposing and terrifying presence. “What are you waiting for? We must act with all haste! Go, now!”

 

Beneath the surface of Gielinor lies the so-called 'God Wars' caverns. There, generals of the gods continue the battle that was started thousands of years ago, oblivious to the passing of time. One such general was Commander Zilyana of Saradomin’s army.

A mage had informed her of the activities of the stone circles, causing Zilyana to gather two of her most trusted warriors as they set off from the dungeon of eternal warfare and towards Guthix’s final resting place.

“By Saradomin's word, we fly! Guthix will be destroyed, in the name of honour. For the return of our glorious Saradomin!”

The cheers of her army chorused as she flew off into the skies.

 

Juna’s head snapped back down to face them. “They’re on their way. Death, Contact the Void Knights. See if they can send a regiment over soon, though I fear by the time they arrive it will be too late. Time is of the essence. I will contact as many of the Guardians of Guthix as I can.”

“We must get into the Inner Sanctum,” Death stated. “However, the walls of the Inner Sanctum are impenetrable with magic. We can teleport no further. We must find a way to open this door, and I believe this contraption may be the way to do it.”

There was a small stone plinth beside the doorway with carvings of runes and other ancient languages scrawled onto it. It was the only noteworthy thing inside the chamber, so powers of deduction meant that it didn’t take much for them to figure out that this would open the door.

Or at least, so they thought.

Death placed his hands on the stone panel, but nothing seemed to happen - no light, no sound, no movement. Furrowing his brow, Death grew frustrated. “I do not comprehend.”

Orlando’s shoulders sagged. “How come you don’t know how to work this here thing? Ain’t you supposed to be some Guthix guardian or whatnot?”

“I am,” Death growled, backing off from the panel. “I do not understand why there is no reaction to my touch. Something should be occurring.”

Realising Juna was slightly limb-challenged, Jahaan took it upon himself to try and operate the control panel next. However, when he placed his hands on it, the panel started glowing and growing warmer. When he tried to move his hands, he found he was trapped, like he had been fused to the contraption.

Initially, he began to panic, until Juna calmed him down, explaining, “Do not fear. This is all as Guthix wills it.”

A green light engulfed Jahaan as he rose and then returned to the surface. As this was happening, the door to the Inner Sanctum opened.

Feeling fuzzy all over, Jahaan examined himself. “What… what just happened?”

“Guthix has given you his blessing,” Cres answered from the doorway of the Inner Sanctum. He looked similar to the automatons from before, only with glowing green symbols carved into his rocky chest. “He has chosen you as one of his creatures, a Guardian of Guthix.”

“An honour indeed,” a voice from behind them commented. Turning around, the group noticed a small group of white-robed figures had teleported into the previous room. Leading them, a decedent looking druid wearing a crown of leaves.

“Kaqemeex. I am so glad you could make it in time,” Death breathed a sigh of relief. “We are short on numbers as it stands.”

“Guthix be with you, Guardians,” he bowed his head slightly. “I have been in contact with the Valluta. She will be accompanied only by a small regiment, but arriving soon. There is a pest onslaught at present and she cannot spare the numbers.”

“Can’t spare the numbers for THIS?!” Jahaan cried, bewildered and outraged.

Kaqemeex shot him a look. “What good is a world overrun, hm? No. We will fight with what we have. We are stronger than our enemy, and we have Guthix on our side.”

“You have me too!” a chirpy voice came from the doorway. Turning to see its origin, Jahaan recognised it as belonging to Chaeldar, the highest slayer master in all of Gielinor, who just so happened to be a fairy.

Juna smiled. “It is good to see you again, Chaeldar.”

“And I,” Thaerisk, accompanied by his own druids, hurried into the chamber. When he saw Jahaan, he did a quick double-take. “My, we appear to be running into each other rather often, Jahaan.”

Wryly, Jahaan smiled. “I wish it were under better circumstances. Nice to see you again, Thaerisk.”

“Well, aren’t we just a ragtag bunch, set to defend the mighty Guthix, yes we are!” Orlando cheered. Everyone responded by giving him a look that screamed  _ ‘shut up Orlando’ _ , but no-one wasted their breath on the actual words.

Over the next few minutes, a handful more Guardians emerged, but not nearly as many as they would have liked. Morale was already at an all-time low when a large crash rocked the room.

“What was that?!” Orlando cried.

The Valluta, a giant tortoise and spiritual leader of the Void Knights, exclaimed, “They're breaking in already!”

Kaqemeex fretted, “We're sitting in the open. We have no organization!”

Stepping into the centre of the circle, Jahaan enthused, “Hold up, everyone. Think of it like this: if they’re already here then - like us - they wouldn’t have had much time to cobble together a formidable offence. All we have to do is hold them off this one time, and we can be better prepared with more defenders if they come back again. Guthix will be safe. We can do this.”

Death nodded. “Jahaan is right. We cannot have come this far to be defeated before the battle has even begun.”

Fiara, a giant earwig charged with defending the Fist of Guthix, declared, “We will stand and fight! For Guthix!”

“For Guthix!” the room chorused, those who had weapons drawing them in readiness.

“That's the spirit!” Jahaan cheered. “We'll show them what we're made of! First, we need to be prepared for them. Cres what can you tell me about this chamber? Any weak points? Resources we could use?”

Closing his eyes, Cres focused for a moment before replying, “My creations inform me that the points of breakthrough will be in the storage wings. That is where the loud crash came from earlier. There are four of them adjacent to this chamber, and the enemy will reach them first. They are smaller rooms than this. If we meet the enemy there, we will make a better defence.”

“Perfect. We should split up to defend each wing. Cres, you take your creations to one. Fiara and the Valluta, another. Chaeldar and Thaerisk, you'll need to work together. Death, Kaqemeex and the rest of you to the last. I'll help wherever I’m needed,” Jahaan organised, clutching tightly onto both his swords.

Kaqemeex frowned. “I’m afraid that, unlike Thaerisk, my druids and I have very little prowess in battle. We would be more of a hindrance than a help. We’ll remain in the main chamber, a last line of defence, where we can use the plant life around and the herbs we have brought with us to mix some healing potions.”

Jahaan nodded firmly. “Then I’ll team with Death.”

“I should stay in the main chamber to guard the passageway itself,” Juna declared. “Then if we-”

Another earthquake cut through the room, breaking Juna's speech mid-breath.

“No time for further deliberating,” Death summoned his mighty scythe. “Now, we fight! For Guthix!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As Of Gods and Men is a reimagining, retelling and reworking of the Sixth Age, a LOT of dialogue/characters/plotlines/etc. are pulled right from the game itself, and this belongs to Jagex.


	3. Chapter 3: But We Can Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jahaan stumbles upon a newly excavated chamber, one that a charismatic young stranger claims to be where Guthix resides under the earth. However, once this knowledge becomes commonplace, many different factions come to a head, either to protect the sleeping god, wake him, or destroy him...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is part of my full series 'Of Gods and Men', and on my page can be read in full (or as far as I've posted). I'm also posting it in smaller chunks as each 'quest' can sort of be standalone, but read as part of a wider story as well.

In the first storage room, Thaerisk and Chaeldar stood ready, determination biting back any fears they had as to whom might be charging towards them. From the sounds echoing throughout the chamber, whomever was coming towards their wing was very big, and very slow. It sounded like they were using their immense strength to force their way through the rock. Perhaps they didn’t have the intelligence to try any other way.

_ Stomp _

_ Stomp _

_ Stomp _

Thaerisk and Chaeldar kept their guard up, waiting.

Before long, the wall broke down as a giant green-skinned beast broke through, shoulder first, the large animal horns on his sturdy helmet being some of the first things to enter the room. He wore a necklace of skulls, with more being attached to his belt, and any clothing he wore was crudely crafted from something dead. Standing at ten feet tall, this was General Graardor, leading a small group of goblin foot soldiers.

“Turn back now,” Thaerisk ordered, his voice a blade. “You will go no further.”

The ogre-like beast laughed. “Graardor turn back? Tiny human has tiny brain! Puny balance god stop wars returning. Bandos - almighty war god - desire battle, so Graardor create it. Graardor smash Guthix skull with mighty fists! Graardor be best general of almighty war god! Squishy human and others will not stop me! Attack!”

Despite being a druid, Thaerisk had been trained in magic from a very early age. Against the brute strength and lumbering combat coming from the goblins and even Graardor himself, magic was an incredibly effective strategy. Using the runes in his possession, he cast a fearsome earth-based spell that knocked the general back for six. Meanwhile, Chaeldar dealt with the goblin forces. Even though she was vastly outnumbered, Chaeldar's size meant that she could move very quickly, making her well-suited against a slow enemy, like goblins were. Her weapon of choice was a small spear.

 

Meanwhile, in another storage room, the sounds of a manic scuttering suggested that there were multiple enemies trying to break through, and the foul stench of the undead could be smelled.

Before long, Zemouregal forced his way into the chamber, with skeletons and zombies behind him, his mindless legion.

Jahaan spoke calmly, with a strange glint in his eyes. “Zemouregal. You're late. Graardor is already in the process of being slaughtered by the Guthixians. You’d be wise to turn tail before you follow him.”

Zemouregal roared a laugh. “Hah! General Graardor… I wouldn't be surprised if the lumbering fool skewered himself on his own weapon. I would suggest you stand aside so I may get to Guthix sooner, but I think I'd prefer to destroy you and your weak companions first. A little payback for your intrusion in the Ritual.”

With an evil smirk, Zemouregal raised his hand, causing his undead minions to charge forwards, and the battle commenced.

 

As he was slow and fragile, Cres himself was no fighter. Therefore, he used his creations to fight for him, replicas of the creatures Jahaan had encountered earlier. Summoning an entire troop of automatons, Cres readied himself for the impending battle.

When Commander Zilyana broke through and an entire troop of white knights and Saradominist warriors followed, he felt his chances of victory slip away quite fast. Nevertheless, he was prepared to fight to the end, for Guthix.

“Step aside, creatures,” Zilyana ordered. The woman was an icyene, an ancient race of winged beings, and the leader of Saradomin’s army. “The glory of Saradomin demands it!”

Creaking his limbs into an offensive posture, Cres stated, “Your god’s ‘glory’ matters nothing here.”

Eyes narrowing, Zilyana drew her thin sword and held it aloft. “So be it. For Saradomin!”

 

One should underestimate the Valluta due to her appearance at their peril. Her shell was near impenetrable, and she had a surprising amount of speed and agility for someone of her size and build. Fiara too, was a fiery opponent, her far-reaching legs and insect-like tail all coordinated into a perfect rhythm, a dance of melee prowess.

The ones to break through and into their storage room were an Armadylian troop, led by Kree'arra, a graceful avatar of Armadyl. Kree'arra was a majestic winged being, feathers of pearl and gold that shone like fine silk even in the low-light of the cavern. He was a powerful ranger, armed with a formidable crossbow. Just as well the two tallest fighters were the ones to battle the ones that could fly.

Kree'arra settled on the ground, his small band of warriors behind him. “You should not be here, creatures of Guthix,” he warned, his tone soft and solemn. “It is not safe. Please, leave now.”

“We cannot do that,” Fiara replied, her voice measured. “Who are you? An aviansie of Armadyl, I gathered, but why are you defying your god’s code of justice and peace in favour of your intrusion here today?”

Exhaling a heavy, weighted breath, Kree'arra responded, “Believe us, bloodshed should always be the last resort… but Guthix is preventing Armadyl’s return. He… he has been missing for so long now. I find myself unable to recall his face to describe him.”

The Valluta declared, “I know of your kind, friend. You do not have to continue here today. Leave, and uphold your god’s principles. It is what he would want.”

There was a long, drawn-out pause, and even the avanasie warriors behind him actually believed Kree’arra was considering it. Alas, instead he withdrew his crossbow and steadied his gaze. “I’m sorry, but this is the way it has to be… for Armadyl…”

 

It didn't take long before Jahaan could coax Zemouregal to fight on his level; knowing he was at a slight disadvantage battling magic with a couple of swords, he goaded the Mahjarrat into duelling with him on his level.

“You think that your blue toothpicks stand a chance against me?” Zemagoural had challenged, summoning a black and steel two-handed blade into his palms.

Granted, Zemouregal was a skilled swordsman with great prowess, but he was a better mage. Now, Jahaan had a fighting chance.

While Death focused on the undead army, Jahaan did his best to keep Zemouregal at bay. Much to his relief and, frankly, surprise, he was succeeding.

The two of them leapt forward, their swords connecting with a fearsome clash. Zemouregal managed to have the strength advantage against Jahaan, pushing him backwards and gaining the upper hand almost instantly. Jahaan rolled out of the way as the black sword struck down into the space he'd occupied almost a millisecond ago. Each strike of sword on sword roared with a pugnacious applause.

The two clashed for ages, Zemouregal growing increasingly furious at his inability to land a killing blow on Jahaan. Unfortunately for him, this led to reckless attacks, misplaced swings and lunges that were far from the mark.

Zemouregal swiped for Jahaan's neck, but the young man caught it with his two smaller blades and twisted the sword from Zemouregal's grip. Using the momentary shock to his advantage, Jahaan sliced a deep cut into Zemouregal's thigh, causing the Mahjarrat to crumble to the ground. Before he knew what was happening, Jahaan had one sword trained at his throat and the other raised directly above his chest.

"Wait!" Zemouregal cried out as Jahaan went to drive the blade into his heart. Fighting for composure, Zemouregal took several deep breaths. "Fine. You win. Your precious God of Balance can live another day."

Jahaan smiled, smugly. “Nice seeing you again, Zemouregal. Let’s do this again sometime.”

“You can count on it, mortal.”

Death escorted him to the next chamber, where he could teleport away without the magic restrictions surrounding the current wing. As soon as he was comfortable at seeing him retreat - feeling the pride that comes with small victories - that happiness was cut in half with the sound of a crash and then a great many footsteps clattering into the main chamber. Quickly, Death and Jahaan hurried in to see Commander Zilyana and her Saradominist forces engaging the druids, Chaeldar and Thaerisk in combat. 

“The Bandosians were a piece of monkfish!” Chaeldar declared, nimbly weaving her way between a Saradominist’s attacks. They came a little too close for comfort; she resorted to blocking with her blade, but physical strength was not on her side. “These critters, not so much.”

Juna added, “Thank goodness you made when you did.”

Charging forward to lock swords with one of the Saradominist soldiers, Jahaan remembered that Cres was defending the wing that had been breached, and imagining the worst, worriedly inquired, “What of Cres and his creations?”

Kaqemeex was tending to a wounded druid when he replied, “My druids are tending to him, but being made of stone and bark instead of flesh and blood, there is little we can do to help him…”

“And the Void Knights?”

“Still fighting the aviansie,” Juna informed.

Jahaan ordered, “Death, go assist the Valluta and the Void Knights with the aviansie. If they break through as well, our chances are practically nothing.”

With a nod of his faceless hood, Death charged into the chamber, scythe at the ready.

 

The battle raged on for who knows how long. Jahaan got lost in the combat, fighting anyone in white armour with a star on their chest. Before long, Death and the Void Knights returned to the chamber, having driven the aviansie into retreating. The playing field was becoming much more level at this point.

Jahaan took a stab at Commander Zilyana, but before their clash could begin, a small explosion rocked the room, emitting from the direction of the western wing.

Into the chamber emerged only three figures, but they were among the most fearsome the Guardians had encountered as of yet. The first, Nex, a name derived from the Infernal word for ‘murder’. She was one of Zaros’ most powerful weapons of war, and one of the most featured creatures in all of Gielinor. Skin red like lava, she was covered in jagged horns and spikes across her chest and back, sharp enough to skewer anyone that came close enough to her. Atop her scaly head were five long horns, curling behind her like waves of hair. Her wings were a gradient of crimson and ashen black, tattered and torn at the edges, yet with bones in them strong enough to snap a mortal in two. The second, Char, a fire enchantress in the service of Zaros. While she was humanoid in figure, her wild hair defied gravity, shaped in curves and spikes, and her eyes glowed fire. Her palms were still glowing from the remnants of a fire-spell she must have recently cast.

Those figures Jahaan had only heard about from legends told to him. The third, however, Jahaan knew personally, as did Commander Zilyana, who disengaged from her fight to approach the three Zarosians. “Azzanadra,” she looked down her nose at the Mahjarrat. “I should have expected you Zarosians to lurk in the shadows, afraid to face those stronger than you.”

Nex hissed, “You watch your tongue, Zilyana, or I will rip it from your mouth.”

“You presume to speak to me, Nex?” Zilyana challenged. “You, who has been locked in your icy prison for thousands of years. Do you feel ready for a real battle again?”

“It seems you are outnumbered, Zilyana. It would be wise to back down,” Azzanadra advised, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “After all, had you not been so desperate to reach Guthix, I'm sure you would have noticed us shadowing your steps. Perhaps you would have thought twice before destroying half the defence, kindly clearing our path.”

“You dare-!”

Igniting her palms again, Char growled, “Oh, we are wasting time, Azzanadra. Let us just kill her and be done with it!”

“Calm, Char,” Azzanadra eased. “It is all in hand. It is no use fighting anymore, Zilyana. It appears we have a friend planted closer to Guthix than any of us could ever be. Jahaan, would you be so kind as to lead us to Guthix?”

Upon seeing Commander Zilyana square up to Azzanadra and the other Zarosians, Jahaan had picked his battles closer to the confrontation, interested as to how the two volatile parties would react. When his name was mentioned, he kicked the Saradominist soldier to the side, badly slicing the man’s arm as he did. “I didn’t think I’d see you again so soon, Azzanada.”

Juna shot Jahaan a surprised, troubling look. “You’re acquainted with a Mahjarrat? After all they did to your people?”

“It was a long time ago,” Jahaan explained. “I’d been enlisted to find a treasure inside one of the Kharidian pyramids. Finding Azzanadra was an… unexpected by-product. He told me his side of the story; I decided not to hold an aged grudge. Why should I?”

Disappointment evident in her tone, Juna shook her head and replied, “I did not see you as one to betray your principals so easily, human.”

At this, Jahaan swung around. “Hey, I’ve been risking my life to defend Guthix with you. The God Wars are long since over, and I’d be a stubborn idiot to hold onto the supposed ‘rage of my people’.”

“Thank you, Jahaan,” Azzanadra smiled in appreciation. “Now, while I would like to continue discussing our ideologies and histories at length, I’m afraid there are more pressing matters at hand. Guthix must first be awoken.”

“Ah, now THAT I can’t let you do.”

Azzanadra crinkled his brow. “We do not wish to kill him, Jahaan. We Zarosians believe that Guthix can be reasoned with, allowing the edicts to fall long enough for our master’s return. Besides, think of all we could learn from such a being!”

Commander Zilyana snorted in disgust. “Ignorant fool. You really think Guthix will be reasoned with? No, we must kill him - only then can the TRUE lord, Saradomin, return to Gielinor.”

“No, Guthix must NOT be disturbed,” Juna maintained, fiercely. She turned to Jahaan. “What say you, human? Please do not tell me you will side with the Mahjarrat once more.”

Pointedly ignoring the undertone in the snake’s hiss, Jahaan firmly replied, “Guthix must not be awoken, and definitely not killed. That’s where I stand.”

Azzanadra’s shoulders sagged. “Jahaan, surely not…”

“I'm afraid so. It’s the only way.”

“This saddens me greatly. I considered you a friend, Jahaan. However, Guthix must be awoken, for Zaros. As much as it pains me, if this means challenging you then… that must be the case.”

“Azzanadra, you sentimental fool,” Char spat. “If the human stands against Zaros, then he stands against us. Any obstacle must be destroyed in flame and fire.”

Suddenly, the ground began to shake violently, ripping everyone from conversation and combat.

“What's going on?” Kaqemeex tried his best to steady his stance, but ended up falling on his back. A Saradominist soldier tried to take advantage and strike him down, but ended up stumbling forwards and toppling to the ground instead.

Chaeldar cried, “The wall! Look!”

While everyone else was distracted, the door on the tableau wall had lit up before breaking open. However, no-one seemed to be close to it.

“That’s the pathway to Guthix,” Juna hissed, quietly, so only Jahaan could hear. “Go! Defend Guthix! We will keep these forces occupied.”

As soon as she finished talking, Juna lunged at Nex, but the demon was too quick and slashed her ferocious claws deep into Juna’s body, blood pouring from the wound instantly. The druids and the rest of the Guardians fought harder than ever before, Chaeldar challenging Char herself, knowing they were the last line of defence now.

Quickly, Jahaan raced through the hole in the door, sprinting through the chambers as fast as he could. He tightly clutched onto both of his swords, blood dripping from the edges as he ran, creating a crimson trail.


	4. End Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jahaan stumbles upon a newly excavated chamber, one that a charismatic young stranger claims to be where Guthix resides under the earth. However, once this knowledge becomes commonplace, many different factions come to a head, either to protect the sleeping god, wake him, or destroy him...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is part of my full series 'Of Gods and Men', and on my page can be read in full (or as far as I've posted). I'm also posting it in smaller chunks as each 'quest' can sort of be standalone, but read as part of a wider story as well.

The cavern appeared to be a bottomless abyss; the background was the darkest fathomable black, a blank canvas to star-like energy particles floating upwards into the nothingness. Beneath the platform Jahaan had entered, a figure stood tall, so tall that he could have stretched from the centre of the planet and Jahaan would be none the wiser, with thick green skin and a crown of glowing orbs to sit atop his humanoid head. He was most certainly awake; his blue eyes looked up at the adventurer with contentment.

_ Guthix _ .

Peering down over the edge of the platform, Jahaan saw a series of rocks jutting outwards, leading closer to Guthix. On these rocks stood Orlando, staring up at the giant deity. Jahaan was about to call out to him, when suddenly, a flash of light enveloped the architect, causing Jahaan to shield his vision. When he managed to open his eyes again, Orlando was no more, and in his place stood a shadowy figure.

His purple robes were broken up at the hood by stripes of red and black, decorative and imposing. Tiny yellow pupils glistened in his black, hollow eyes; when he turned to look up at Jahaan, his smile was wicked and mischievous, like one of a proud sinner.

Jahaan’s eyes narrowed into slits.  _ Sliske _ .

With a wave of his wrist, a large staff appeared in his hands, two golden wings at the end with a blue crystal in between them. Turning back to Guthix, he held the staff aloft, and moments later, a violent burst of lightning shot from the end and pierced into Guthix’s heart. Guthix roared in agony, shaking the chamber with his pained cries. An orange liquid started seeping from the wound, faster and faster as the staff’s energy plunged deeper into the god’s chest. Jahaan could only watch, helpless, as Guthix’s life force was drained away.

Content with the damage he had done, Sliske teleported away.

Guthix’s head lulled forwards, his chest heaving with staggered breaths as his raspy throat fought for air.

In the silence, Jahaan was frozen in place, unable to take his eyes off the wound on Guthix’s chest. He almost fell to the ground when a voice echoed around him.

_ “Do not be afraid. You have no enemies here. As I believe you know, I am Guthix.” _

Trying to regain a level-head, Jahaan cleared his throat before replying, “What just happened? Are you injured?”

_ “Sliske was wielding an elder weapon. A god slayer, if you will. I am dying, Jahaan Alsiyad-Abut. But we still have time. It has been most interesting watching your brave journey to get here.” _

Jahaan’s eyes widened. “You knew what was happening outside?”

_ “Yes. I saw everything. You put up an honourable defence and I thank you. Before the end, there is something I must show you. I must share this with someone, before these memories die with me…” _

 

When the world faded back into life, Jahaan was standing in a foreign land, consisting of what appeared to be giant trees supporting shattered floating islands, which had leaves dangling from the bottom of them. Lights could be seen hanging from branches, and broken paths connected some of the islands, which had tree roots flowing through them. Purple plants of varying sizes were found growing in every direction.

“Guthix?” Jahaan called out, puzzled.

“I am here,” Guthix assured, teleporting in front of him. He was considerably smaller than before, standing barely an inch taller than Jahaan himself. His skin was a mossy green, with shawn bark-coloured hair on his head. His golden robes were that of a simple man, tattered and passed down for generations, but still with enough life in them to last. He had no armour and bore no weapons, and anyone could not be blamed for mistaking him for a farmer of this world.

“I have taken a form from my past,” Guthix announced, quietly, as if he didn’t wish to disturb the silent surroundings.

“Your past? Where are we?”

“This is my homeland. Or rather, my last memories of it, moments before I left.”

Jahaan crinkled his brow. “Your homeland?”

The two began walking through the remains of this world. “Have patience, all will be explained. You saw Sliske - the Mahjarrat - deal his final blow... I am dying. I have slowed our passage of time momentarily, so I may share this with you. Many millennia ago, I was born here, on Naragun, far away from the land you call home. From as far back as I can remember, this world was in turmoil. My world was home to many gods; many beings who would claim it as their own. The gods fought relentlessly, and as more and more came, the fighting became increasingly vicious. War broke out and lasted for centuries. The world was ravaged, and the population decimated. And do you know who came out the victor, Jahaan?”

Jahaan shook his head.

“No one. No one emerged triumphant from this ordeal,” Guthix’s reply was sharp and loaded. “My people were killed. All of my friends, my family. I was left to stand alone on this devastated plane, with memories of what my life had been.”

There were corpses scattered all around the barren landscape; Jahaan deduced that these must be Guthix's memories of his friends and family, all killed in the wars that destroyed this world. Their clothes were basic, and they carried no weapons. They looked more like farmers and crafters than warriors, the kind of people that would not stand much of a chance against a god's army. It was sickening that so many of the dead were not soldiers. As the gods' battles became more fervent, innocent citizens must have become accidental casualties, eventually wiping out Guthix's race altogether.

“What about the gods?” Jahaan inquired.

“Many died. Many fled,” Guthix guided Jahaan to a dead god that loomed over the landscape, terrifying even in death. His appearance suggested that he was not a benevolent god, although even if he were it seems that none of the gods who visited this world cared much for the mortals living upon it.

“He is one of the fallen. A god, long-dead and forgotten,” Guthix explained. “In the last days of the war, I believed I was soon to die, too. There was no food, no water. I scavenged among the dead, until one day I found a weapon; a large sword, crackling with energy. I recognised it as a weapon of the gods. The 'elder weapons', as they referred to them. These weapons were prized among them, and they fought desperately over these. I knew it to be my only chance, so I took it. Having seen so much violence, I do not believe in it as a solution. But in this case, I had no other choice. In the dead of night, I crept from the ruins of my home. I found a slumbering god - the god you see before you - peaceful amid the rubble. I stabbed him with the elder weapon, driving it deep into his back. The weapon shattered as the god reared back in pain before crashing to the ground. As I watched him take his last breaths, I felt power growing within me. I became a god myself, equal to those who had tormented my life. I left this world and its painful memories. I fled for centuries, aimlessly wandering until something captured my attention. I felt drawn to a planet - Gielinor. It was beautiful, and more importantly, empty. It was somewhere I could hide, and mourn my dead. I had not expected to find the Stone upon it - the Stone of Jas - granting me a power greater than even the gods of my homeworld.”

The two walked past what appeared to be the remains of a ruined temple. Some of Guthix's race must have begun to worship the gods who came to this world, creating shrines and temples for them, becoming caught up in the very war that destroyed them. A warped form of Stockholm syndrome. If he squinted, Jahaan thought he could pick out a familiar symbol carved onto what was left of the shrine.

It was a four-pointed star.

Before he decided to continue that particularly saddening train of thought, Jahaan stopped their strolling beside an unidentified corpse. Unlike Guthix's race, this creature was clearly a warrior. It almost looked as if it was created purely for combat, with strong muscles and thick skin. It could have ripped a naragi to shreds in seconds. The creature was wearing tough armour, bearing the mark of a long-forgotten god.

Jahaan inquired, “What is this? It doesn't look like any race I've ever seen.”

“It is a god's warrior - a creature introduced to this world only for war. The sparring gods brought in other races to fight for them, creating their own armies, much like how the Mahjarrat were introduced to Gielinor. When I arrived in Gielinor, I spent a long time alone. I didn't know what my future held, or what I should do next. Eventually, I came upon what I believed was my purpose. I aimed to create a world free of the influence of gods, a world where the inhabitants would not have to fight other beings' wars. So, I introduced my own chosen races: humans, gnomes, dwarves, sheep... beings who do not strongly tend towards evil, nor good. I chose tribes who had no concept of gods, and I brought them to Gielinor, to live uninfluenced lives while I retained the balance. I even bought Seren with me, and she brought her elves…” Guthix paused for a moment, lost in his own reminiscing. Shaking his head, his light tone turned sorrowful once more as he continued, “But I was naive; my plan would never work. I should have seen it coming. I introduced the mortals to the world, and I had a power greater than they had ever seen. The mortal races began to worship  _ me _ . They built shrines to me, made sacrifices… they waited on my every word. It pained me deeply to see myself becoming what I had always loathed. They should not have been living beneath me. I wanted them to be free, balanced, to make their own decisions. Knowing my presence was thwarting my efforts, I withdrew into the earth, to sleep. I hoped I would be forgotten over the ages. But it was not long before the other gods arrived.”

As he spoke, Guthix’s voice was growing weaking, fading. “I feel my strength draining. We are nearly at the end.”

The two walked up some floating wooden steps, held together with study tree roots. Beside the steps stood a stone tablet among the ruins. The clarity of the writing suggested that Guthix had a strong memory of this tablet; perhaps it was something he saw every day, or something dear to him. Along the path, just beyond the stone, stood the crumbled remains of a house.

As they continued up the steps, Guthix continued, “When I ended the war of the gods, I did it with no pleasure. I already knew I had failed. Looking over Gielinor, it was like looking at my homeland: the land ravaged; the mortals worshiping a multitude of gods, including myself. The races brought in by the now-banished gods remained, and disrupted the balance at every turn. Battles raged on, in the names of the absent gods. I could banish the gods themselves, but I could not remove the memories of them, nor the blind faith displayed by their followers. Besides, my own interference would only disrupt the balance even more. I have disproportionate power, more than any single being should have. But now, balance will be restored, with my passing. I could have prevented this, Jahaan. I have been awake since you triggered the alarm. I knew what would happen.”

Realisation dawned upon Jahaan heavily. “You… you could have stopped Sliske... why didn't you?”

“Jahaan, I have been the most powerful being on Gielinor since my arrival. Of course I could have stopped Sliske if I had desired to. But I embrace my death. It must occur, if the world is to be balanced. If the gods return, another war is inevitable. Gielinor must be returned to peace before war destroys it... before it becomes like my own world. A dead, desolate wasteland... Gielinor must be protected, Jahaan. But not by me. By a mortal. Someone with the power to defend against the gods, but not the power to be one.”

Guthix cringed, clutching his chest as he groaned, “Ah… it is... the pain is becoming stronger. Please, follow me into me house… my home…”

The two walked inside the remnants of Guthix’s house. From what was left of the structure, it looked like something that, before being destroyed, was a lovely piece of architecture, strong but… cosy, almost. It… had an aura about, a warmth that Jahaan let pass over him. The house would have been big enough for a family. For Guthix’s family.

Now, there was only one bed left inside, and that was comprised of nothing more than a somewhat flat stone tablet.

Doubling over, Guthix clutched onto the wall for balance, a desperate attempt to remain standing. “I have... so little time. Please, listen carefully, Jahaan. I have already shared my power with you, chosen you as one of my creatures, so that you may reach this point. When this is over, you will find yourself with even more power. Power you may use to defend against gods. You must be a guardian of this world, Jahaan. Gielinor must be free.”

To see Guthix in such a weary state, to see what his world had become, and how it shaped him into the being he was known to be on Gielinor, Jahaan was on the edge of tears. He was not above admitting his emotions when such emotions were justified. Sniffing them back, he vowed, “I’ll do as you ask. I’ll use your powers to protect Gielinor from the gods.”

The smile Guthix managed was so weak, so frail. He edged over towards his bed and crawled on top of it. “I am glad to have found such a noble mortal as you, Jahaan. My blessing is with you.”

He closed his eyes, one final time. “It is over. My family waits for me. Remember... your purpose, Jahaan... and please… forget me.”

 

When Jahaan opened his eyes again, he was standing in the cavern, on the edge, looking down at the lifeless form of Guthix. It was so silent. The tears he had been holding back on Naragun released themselves here.

Numbly, he walked back through the tunnels, back out into the main chamber, where he found the fighting had continued in his absence. He didn’t even know how much time had passed; Guthix mentioned something about slowing the passage of time, but not to what extent.

What was evident were the casualties in his absence. Juna was lying motionless on the floor, with druids tending to her. From all sides of the battle, people had fallen.

His return to the main room caught the eye of Azzanadra. “Jahaan, what happened in there?”

Now, more and more people stopped their fighting to turn to him. The grave atmosphere was answer enough, but they all waited on baited breath, praying for their desired outcome.

Taking a deep breath, Jahaan looked among the faces of the crowd before announcing, “Guthix is dead.”

The chamber descended into silence, before some of the Guthixians broke out into quiet sobs and disbelieving whispers.

Even the Mahjarrat looked suitably shocked. Only the Saradominists had the nerve to look gleeful.

"I... I did this,” Jahaan continued, his voice wavering. “The man I brought with me, Orlando, was actually the Mahjarrat Sliske in disguise..."

Many of the gathered gasped, turning threatening eyes over to Azzanadra, who for his part looked just as horrified. “This… this was not our intention, you must believe me. He gave me his word. He...”

“To believe a snake?” Chaeldar spat. “We would be imbeciles!”

Kaqemeex put an reassuring hand on Jahaan’s shoulder. "You are not to blame, Jahaan. None of us saw through his deception. We share the blame."

The Valluta shook her head, her mouth held agape. "Guthix would not have let a peon like Sliske destroy him, surely?" 

Jahaan sighed at the memory. "It was his will. He said he knew what was to happen, and he accepted it."

"B-But why? Why would he leave us?"

Death cut in, "We could discuss this all night, but there is no point. Guthix is dead. His edicts are broken. That means the gods can return to Gielinor."

In a beat, it hit them all, with Thaerisk voicing the unspeakable, "The wars could begin again..." 

Suddenly, the ground started shake, knocking crumbling fragments from the wall out of their places and onto the ground, making rubble out of them.

“What’s happening?” Chaeldar cried, hovering higher to try and see the cause of the disruption. “Another Zarosian trick?”

Trying to maintain his footing, Azzanadra desperately protested, “This is not of our doing!”

 

Then, in a brilliant flash of blue light, a figure emerged. His skin was pale blue, covered by a flowing blue robe and gold armour. A gold and diamond two-tiered crown sat atop his head, and on his chest plate was printed the symbol of his religion - a four-pointed star.

He turned to Azzanadra and his small band of followers. “This is no place for battle. Go back to your hiding places.”

With a snap of his fingers, he teleported the trio away.

Instantly, Commander Zilyana fell to her knees in a deep bow. "Saradomin, my lord! You have returned! Look, our rival Guthix-"

"Silence, Zilyana,” his voice was booming, demanding obedience. “It is not right to revel in bloodshed. What has been done could not have been helped. Guthix was not an evil god. Like myself, he yearned to make the world a better place for those who dwell upon it. But his notion of balance was flawed, and his presence meant that I could not return. It was not an easy decision, but Guthix had to die. But, Zilyana, that does not mean we should gloat over the events here."

Rising to her feet, Zilyana bowed her head once more. "I apologise, my lord."

Saradomin turned to Jahaan, his demeanor that of someone who believes he rules over all be surveys, the superiority only a god can lay claim to. "So, human, you were alone with Guthix in his last breaths. Tell me, do you know who I am?"

Jahaan's initial response was to be measured - after all, he was in the presence of yet another god. But when he saw that familiar symbol emblazoned on Saradomin's chest, he instead saw red. 

"You were there, weren't you?" 

"Pardon?" 

"On Naragun," Jahaan pressed, his voice a blade. "You were there, in the wars. You tore Guthix's homeland apart." 

Saradomin sighed, almost in annoyance. It only made Jahaan angrier. "That was many centuries ago. You only have half the story, mortal." 

Jahaan knew how Saradomin came to Gielinor, knew his large, destructive role in the God Wars of the Third Age. His opinion of the deity wasn't anything special, but after seeing how he'd tried this act on world's before Gielinor infuriated Jahaan. "Oh, and what's the other half? You just wanted to bring peace and order to Naragun? The world was doing fine without you, just like Gielinor was." 

"Hmph. I see Guthix has been infesting your mind with many tales. No matter. I'm sure we will get to talk again in the future, and I do hope I will get to share my side of the story with you. Right now, however, is not the time, nor the place. Much has happened here today. With the edicts broken, the world will soon enter a new age. More gods will be coming... I apologise, human. I do hope we meet again, but for now I must ask you to leave. I have much to do here."

Saradomin attempted to teleport Jahaan away, just like he did the Zarosians, but the spell only knocked Jahaan a few steps backwards, like he'd been shoved. The deity crinkled his brow. "Interesting... you shouldn't be able to resist my power." 

Jahaan flashed a challenging grin, laced with fury. He made sure to pronounce every single word carefully when he explained, "I can resist, because before he died, Guthix imparted some of his power to me. Power to guard the world from the gods that wish to control it. Gods like you, Saradomin." 

Saradomin regarded the human before him with a reserved glare. "Impressive... Guthix must have seen something special in you. Or he was that desperate. Who knows? Consider your choices, human. Guthix may have presented you with the world as he sees it, but that is not the only view. There are other more worthy paths. No one should wish for another war of the gods, but sometimes violence is necessary before we can achieve a greater peace. It would be wise to ensure you are on the right side when that violence begins. I will leave you now to think on that. I'm sure we'll meet again... World Guardian."

Saradomin teleported away, and Jahaan dropped to his knees, his swords clattering to the ground. He fought desperately for breath, to regain composure, but it was an uphill battle. The confrontation with Saradomin, coupled with the trip through the memories of Guthix, had drained Jahaan both physically and mentally.

“So this is it, then,” the words caught in Fiara’s throat. “Guthix is dead.”

“We have little time to mourn,” Death replied. “Saradomin has returned.”

“You are right. We must act quickly if we are to mount a defence, to protect ourselves,” the Valluta stated firmly. She turned to Kaqemeex and the druids surrounding him, asking, “Juna… will she live?”

Kaqemeex sighed, heavily. “She sustained a large gash in the battle. I have administered all I can for now. She’s alive. Whether she regains consciousness is another matter.”

Chaeldar rubbed the tears at her eyes, angrily. “I’m going to make Sliske pay for this.”

“You aren’t the only one who wants to make Sliske suffer,” Jahaan asserted. “Right now though, we need to think of the bigger picture. The gods are coming back. We need to focus on doing what we can to minimise their damage.”

“And what can we alone hope to do?” Fiara’s tone was one of defeat.

Sighing, Jahaan replied, “I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out. One step at a time.”

**Author's Note:**

> As Of Gods and Men is a reimagining, retelling and reworking of the Sixth Age, a LOT of dialogue/characters/plotlines/etc. are pulled right from the game itself, and this belongs to Jagex.


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